


Right There, Under Your Skin

by starvinbohemian



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5871637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvinbohemian/pseuds/starvinbohemian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They anchor each other in D.C.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right There, Under Your Skin

        At the end of the day, once Spencer is home and her shoes have been kicked off to places unknown, and she’s curled up alone on her expensive couch that’s never managed to become comfortable…

        … she finally calls him.

        The desire has been there all day, settled into the back of her mind, ever since he texted her to make sure she remembered to eat something.

        Spencer gave him no reason to think she wouldn’t. She didn’t even tell him that today would be an endless string of meetings and go-betweens and passive aggressive communications that ultimately go nowhere.

        But, somehow, he knew. Caleb is the reason she took the time to grab a bagel from the corner bakery.

        Now, she’s survived the day, but her apartment is too quiet. Every single one of her bones feels tired, and it’s been at least a week since she’s spoken to another person that wasn’t connected to her through work.

        There are at least a dozen work emails she could be responding to right now. Knowledge of them weighs her down deeper into the couch.

        The rat race never stops, and this is her life.

        She calls Caleb.

______________________

__________

        They find each other again in Madrid.

        It’s been years. He looks different, older. He holds himself straighter now, no longer slouching like the angry boy he used to be. She might not have recognized him if he hadn’t called her name.

        Caleb knows her immediately when he spots her in the crowd. His voice calls to her across the platform.

        There are years of new experiences between them, good and bad, enough to make them strangers. But he smiles when their eyes meet, and the familiarity hits her immediately.

        She misses her train.

______________________

__________

        The first thing Spencer sees when she opens the door for him is the stack of pizzas in his arms. The first thing out of his mouth is, “Did you remember to eat?”

        She smiles even as she shakes her head at his borderline nagging. It’s the first time she’s smiled— really, genuinely _smiled_ — all day.

        She changes into sweatpants and fuzzy slippers. Already, her body feels lighter. Refreshed. She rarely entertains guests these days, but she keeps his favorite beer in her fridge for the rare occasion that he’s over. She grabs two cans and curls up on the couch with him and their pizza to watch a murder mystery marathon on the ID channel.

        Eating crappy pizza and watching cheesy, gruesome television with him is easily the best part of her day. She doesn’t even comment when he puts his feet up on her coffee table, right next to her books about Dali and FDR. Caleb notices her slight twitch anyway.

        Without a word, he removes his feet. She doesn’t mean to smirk. She really doesn’t. Caleb just rolls his eyes.

______________________

__________

        She never would have predicted it, but somewhere along the way, Caleb became her best friend.

        It feels disloyal to even think it, but Hanna, Emily, and Aria are so far away from her now, each building their own lives in separate parts of the country. The girls still talk, but those conversations are growing fewer and farther in between. Her friends used to anchor her, kept her from spinning too far off the beaten path, but that was (already) a long time ago.

        Spencer doesn’t resent them for this. She’s just as guilty of growing up and away.

        But Spencer is Spencer and she needs something— someone— to hold her back from the brink. Once upon a time, she had Toby, but now she doesn’t.

        It’s not just that Caleb is the only one nearby. He’s nearby because Spencer made a point of pulling him along with her, first through the streets of Madrid and then later to D.C.

        She and Caleb are very much alike. They both need a rock, a partner, to keep them anchored or else they just... drift. Caleb needed to be pointed in a direction, so Spencer brought him to D.C with a job opportunity she found for him.

        Nowadays, Caleb is the one she bounces ideas off of, the one she forwards funny things to. When the cogs in her brain start whirring too fast, he’s the one to slow them down, sometimes with humor and sometimes with somber focus. 

        He’s the one she calls after a particularly bad nightmare that puts her back inside the dollhouse or facing off against a black hoodie. He’s the first to know when she decides to start therapy again.

        Some days, Caleb is the only reason she remembers to stop and _breathe_.

______________________

__________

        Caleb touches her arm. “Where have you been?” he asks. “You went off the grid again.”

        She doubts that. Even if she wanted to hide from him, Caleb could always find her. There’s no grid he can’t navigate, no mystery he can’t solve if he puts his mind to it.

        His concerned expression makes her sigh. She considers the advantages of unloading on him, of telling him about how she’s been spending most of her free time laying the foundations for her mother’s eventual senatorial campaign. About how she already feels responsible for her mother’s success when the campaign hasn’t even really grown legs yet.

        About how she’s thinking about trying to start things back up with William, the ambassador’s son, because why not?

        (Or that she worries they’re spending too much time together, even though that’s technically untrue because she doesn’t see enough of anyone really.)

        “Busy,” is all she says.

        It’s Caleb’s turn to sigh.

______________________

__________

        Everyone’s lives splintered when the girls left for college and left the horrors of A and Rosewood behind.

        The connections faded. She and Toby found they had less and less to talk about as time went on. Caleb and Hanna drifted apart, too. It happens.

        Spencer didn’t lose herself after losing Toby. She went to Spain with a purpose, her year abroad part of a larger life plan. When Spencer found Caleb in Madrid— or when he found her— he was adrift. Wandering, aimless after Hanna and New York. Maybe she unconsciously anchored him, too, because he’s followed her ever since, pulled along in her wake.

        Spencer doesn’t know if Hanna knows that Spencer is the reason that Caleb moved to D.C. She hasn’t asked Caleb, and Hanna has never said.

        It’s not that they don’t talk about Toby or Hanna. It’s just that their exes don’t come up as often anymore. The break-ups are now years in their rear-view, everyone in an amicable place, and it feels unnecessary to drag the skeletons out of their closets for constant analysis.

        Caleb isn’t really the type to share anyway. He’s always ready to lend her an ear or encouragement when she needs it, but he’s not one to share his own feelings or insecurities. She’s learned over time to tell when he’s thinking about Hanna, and how to navigate him when he goes quiet.

        Spencer wants Caleb to come work for her organization. She thinks he’ll like it, working for the people on the ground, for people united in the common cause of pushing progressive legislation for the betterment of the everyman. It makes much more sense for him than working for the greedy capitalists he hates.

        She likes the idea of having him around on a more consistent basis. This way, he can nag her from a shorter distance.

______________________

__________

        It’s been a long day, and Spencer drifts off sometime during the fourth or fifth murder investigation, lulled to sleep by the detective’s gruff voice.

        She wakes up some time later and realizes that her head is on Caleb’s shoulder and that his fingers are soothing through her hair. He’s still watching the television and doesn’t seem to notice that she’s awake now.

        Spencer doesn’t move. His body is warm against her side, his arm solid around her shoulders. His fingers leave small tingles across her scalp.

        Caleb feels her stiffen and says her name questioningly.

        She sits up reluctantly. Her heart is racing, and Caleb's fingers are still tangled in her hair.

        They stare at each other.

______________________

__________

        Melissa introduces her to William.

        He’s handsome, educated, and well-off. An ambassador’s son who has traveled the world. There’s chemistry right off the bat, and Spencer knows he’s going to ask her out long before he does.

        He takes her to nice, upscale restaurants and gets them box seats at the opera. They have a good time, despite having little in common.

        Caleb hates William straight from hello.

        They’re like oil and water, and she only tries to force them together twice before she ultimately throws up her hands in defeat.

        Spencer doesn’t understand it. On the surface, they’re both intelligent men with a wide array of talents and passions and potentially interesting things to say. But for whatever reason, they seem to rub each other the wrong way, each hearing insults in everything the other says. (In Caleb’s case, the insults are real, but delivered so casually that they almost— _almost_ — go right over William’s head.) She tires quickly of playing referee.

        She tires of William altogether.

        He’s a nice guy, but he doesn’t understand her. And Spencer has finally reached a point where she’s tired of having to explain herself. There are things she doesn’t like to think about, let alone have to explain to anyone else about her past.

        Spencer doesn’t have to do that with Caleb. He already gets it. He was there.

______________________

__________

        They look away at the same time, refocusing on the television.

        While she was sleeping, Caleb turned the channel to some home improvement show. A tall man and a pretty blonde are renovating someone else’s house. Spencer finds their perky voices jarring.

        Caleb’s voice is soft. “Spence…” 

        She shakes her head imperceptibly. She’s the one who asked him over, but now she wants him to go. She wants to be alone.

        Spencer senses Caleb’s gaze on her again, but when she turns her head, he’s watching the television.

______________________

__________

        Veronica is the second person to point out that Spencer seems to mention Caleb at least once per phone conversation.

        (William was first, but he was upset at the time, and it was only one of several accusations he leveled at them.)

        She can practically hear the raised eyebrow in her mother’s tone.

        The implied question isn’t unwarranted. Spencer knows that. But she bristles anyway. They’re friends. They’re _just_ friends.

        Spencer hates the idea of anyone thinking that there’s something illicit going on between her and Caleb, because she can’t bear the thought of Hanna somehow hearing and thinking that they would do that to her. They wouldn’t, but if Hanna were to think they were, then…

        They would have to stop. Because they both love Hanna, and her feelings would have to come first.

        Spencer doesn’t want to think about Caleb suddenly disappearing from her life. She thinks he _would_ just disappear, would abruptly cut the cord and drift off again to who-knows-where rather than risk hurting Hanna. And where would that leave Spencer?

        (No more late-night visits or murder marathons or funny texts or debates about national security or trips to the museum to see the new Fritz Lang exhibit or…)

        She doesn’t want to think about it.

______________________

__________

        “Do you still miss Toby?” he asks her.

        Caleb isn’t looking at her when he asks, so he doesn’t see the guilty flush on her face. His eyes are trained on the television, on the blonde who smiles winningly at them as she wields a power saw over some wooden planks.

        “Yes,” she lies.

_Finis._

**Author's Note:**

> Dipping my feet in the Spaleb pool.


End file.
